


unpredictable temperatures

by thefullergirl



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Ass-eating, Hand Jobs, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, blowjob, can't believe how filthy this got but anyways, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefullergirl/pseuds/thefullergirl
Summary: God. Dejun wonders if he would ever be able to escape him at this point.
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 17
Kudos: 270





	unpredictable temperatures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toxicmew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicmew/gifts).



> thank you [toxicmew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicmew/pseuds/toxicmew) for tweeting that you want to see them kiss i swear i felt like a third eye opened
> 
> (also looking at you, jaemin at the videocall fansign)
> 
> title from volcano by nct u

He’s just curious.

It begins with their first meeting to discuss the song for their unit. Dejun’s buzzing from nerves, amplified with that weirdly strong tea Ten keeps in their cupboards. He’s one of the first to arrive, settling into one of the cool metal seats of the meeting room, trying his best not to let his thoughts run a mile a minute. It’s cool, he’ll be cool.

People start filtering in bit by bit, and Dejun feels a whole plethora of emotions stir in his stomach. Xuxi, who has been beside him this whole time, is patting his knee to ground him.

“Told you not to drink the tea,” he whispers, just as their manager sits on the unoccupied seat beside Dejun.

“I can’t stay awake without it and I _need_ to be awake,” he hisses back, but he takes a deep breath and squeezes Xuxi’s hand.

Right across from Dejun, a form dressed in all black settles into a chair. Once he takes off his bucket hat, Dejun sees that it’s Jaemin, one of their youngest in the unit (and in the whole group, if he thinks about it).

Now, he and Jaemin haven’t really _talked_ talked. Said hi a couple of times, socialized during events, joked around when the situation called for it, that sort of thing. But neither of them are talkers anyways, so anything more has blurry possibilities at best.

With them promoting in one unit, that’s all going to change, obviously. There’ll be more opportunities to strike conversation as they share hours of practice and sitting together. As the next closest one to his own age, Dejun thinks it would be pretty fun to be friends with him.

He’s watched Jaemin’s performances before, mostly out of curiosity. The guy was pretty popular, and for good reason. There was just something about the way he performs, the way he carries himself, the comforting presence he has. Charming, in a multitude of ways that he hasn’t seen with anyone else. Dejun understood why so many were drawn to him. He knows he is.

Add to that how young he is. True, Dejun was older only by a year, but he knows Jaemin has experienced so much more in this idol life already. Part of the representative group of the company, an ambassador, an endorser, an idol known all over the world. Jaemin seems to be so many things, and he wonders what he’s like apart from that. 

For now, though, he tries his best not to stare at him running his fingers through his faded blue hair.

It continues with the first time they’re at the recording studio. Dejun had an early schedule so he’s one of the last to go. Tonight, it’s him, Xuxi, and Jaemin.

He’s already changed into a hoodie and trackpants, his makeup a little smudgy from when he tried to take most of it off. The copy of lyrics is on his lap, and he’s trying to get himself used to his parts. He’s tired from his day, but he has to make it seem like he has the energy of this song.

Xuxi’s already recording, his voice clear when they play it back. He’s also in his casual clothes now, and his mostly intact makeup is a contrast to how soft everything else about him is. Dejun knows that Xuxi is beyond tired, more than most of them, and he’s honestly impressed he can still stand upright at this point.

As Xuxi goes over his next lines, Jaemin is ushered in. His redyed hair peeks out from under his cap, and Dejun can barely see his face from how low it’s pulled on his face. Carefully, he sits down on the plush sofa that Dejun is on, placing his drink in between his knees.

“Hello,” he greets, voice quiet. “Manager-noona didn’t tell me who else was here for this batch.”

“Ah, us apparently.” Dejun smiles at him, although he’s not sure that Jaemin sees. “There were schedules earlier...”

“Me too.” Jaemin sips on his drink. “I actually fell asleep after them, so I’m a little…” He makes a gesture, and Dejun finds himself huffing out a soft laugh.

They sit in silence as Xuxi starts again, flipping through their copies of the lyrics. Both of them silently cheer him on once he finishes his part.

Dejun is tempted to pull out his phone, busy himself on it. All that thought does is make him wonder if he ever saved Jaemin’s phone number.

Before he can say anything, Xuxi steps out, ruffling his hair. He waves to them both, turning to talk to the producer with a wide smile on his face.

Jaemin’s knuckles brush against his side, barely there. “You first, hyung?”

His breath stops somewhere before it reaches his lungs. “Uh. Yeah, yeah.”

There’s a kind little smile before Dejun leaves the couch.

Later, when he’s done and Xuxi manages to drag him away, grumbling for food, Dejun wonders if he really does have Jaemin’s number somehow.

It continues (and gets worse) on their first run of the choreography.

Doyoung sits on the floor beside him, beginning a casual conversation with him. He’s gentler in person, Dejun notes, as Doyoung tells him about this really nice place they’ll order food from once they’re done with practice. All those shows make him look so much more intense, but he feels genuinely soothing, he’s come to learn. The conversation is mundane, filling in the silence as they wait to begin, but Dejun appreciates it.

A few moments later, Doyoung waves to Jaemin, getting him to come to their spot. Once Jaemin has plopped down, Doyoung rubs his back affectionately. That’s one more thing Dejun has noticed about him: he just cares about everyone. Maybe not as loud as others, but he cares.

It’s fascinating to see how easily Jaemin leans into the touch, shoulders relaxing. They don’t have cameras now, and nobody will ever know about moments like these.

For weeks now, Dejun has seen mostly this side of Jaemin, all oversized shirts and messy hair and his bare face. Starting today though, he’ll start to see him in practice, see the performer that he’s watched in all those videos.

And see, he does. Jaemin is quick to pick up on the steps, his body moving confidently even for the first few tries. There’s just a way that his body naturally moves to the music, ingrained in him after all these years. Whenever Dejun’s positioned behind him, Dejun can’t help but watch the way his shirt, although loose, still shows the muscle underneath. He has to quickly clear his head of the thought that this guy is broad as hell, and that fact kind of scares him.

And he sees the way he nonchalantly wipes the sweat off the side of his face with the hem of his shirt, the peeks of skin at those moments. Dejun feels like a teenager processing that someone’s hot for the very first time when he turns away quickly, and he sees Xuxi furrow his brows at him. He hopes to all the gods out there that Xuxi doesn’t catch on too quickly, because that will be disastrous at the dorm.

But he flushes, he fucking knows it. Dejun hopes it can just be attributed to the practice and how hot it is in the practice room, but he knows it’s a weak excuse.

 _Breathe, Dejun._ He forces his gaze to look at somewhere else, tells himself to focus. He has very important center parts for this song, he needs to get this right.

Later, he opens one of the bottles of water and drinks it all in one go, grateful he doesn’t choke on it when Jaemin and his too-warm body leans over him to grab a bottle for himself.

It continues after their first stage.

The stylists had to put Jaemin in _that,_ whatever that is. It’s sheer and short and held together by a singular button that really worked hard that entire time. Truthfully, it didn’t look like much when they were dressing him, but the practice runs made it clear that it was quite a dangerous piece of clothing.

Jaemin’s truly a force to be reckoned with once he steps onto the stage. He thought he’d seen it already through the videos, through the practices, but the real thing is just different. There’s a devilish confidence to him, present in every move he does and every upwards tilt of his lips.

And god, Dejun knows Jaemin’s pretty. Known fact for everyone who knows him really. All sharp angles and long lashes and gorgeous lips and eyes that sparkle. The type of face you won’t tire looking at, he’s aware of this.

But it’s different when he’s made up like this, silvery hair slicked back, his eyelids just slightly shimmery, a mouth that looks like he’s been kissed. Breathtaking, almost too beautiful to be real, but he is. He’s real, and this look might just haunt Dejun.

After a whole slew of selfies and group photos, the others filter out, looking for drinks and maybe even some more spots for a good photo. Taeyong even said that he was going to introduce Shotaro to some of his friends here. Everyone goes. That is, everyone but Dejun and Jaemin.

This is fine. Dejun has his water and the other WayV members are chatting with him and this is absolutely fine. He’s totally not aware of Jaemin lounging on the plush couch on the other side of the room. Of course not.

But he can’t help it. Dejun is just curious. He's curious when he sits down next to Jaemin in the music show waiting room, and Jaemin acknowledges him with a little smile and a nod. He's curious when he reaches out to run his fingertips over Jaemin's glossed lips and a perfect eyebrow quirks up at him. Dejun looks into those wide eyes and wordlessly asks. There’s a nod, Jaemin’s gaze flicking down to his mouth, his own parting slightly. 

He's curious when he dips in, all his breath stuck in his throat, and kisses this boy he wonders quite a lot about.

And Jaemin doesn't kiss the way he thought he would. He's sweet at first, as soft as all the knit sweaters he wears when it's just a casual day. Then, Dejun notes how he steadily goes in, slowly claiming his mouth with every bit of enjoyment in the world. It's like he drinks in Dejun's surprised little gasps when he licks him open and tastes him, knowing full well Dejun is moments from buckling.

They could be caught, is the thought that fills every nerve of Dejun’s body that isn’t absolutely melting right now. He could be caught with Jaemin’s tongue down his throat in the waiting room of their very first music show appearance together. 

A tiny part of him wants it to happen. Dejun knows he’ll push that part down later.

When they pull away, Jaemin’s mouth looks even more like he’s been kissed senseless, which well. He’s not sure what Jaemin sees, but he leans forward for more, nipping at Dejun’s lip as he runs rough, warm hands up and down his sides.

And really, Dejun is curious about so much more now.

Nothing particularly like that happens over the next few days. Just fleeting touches on his waist and his back, never pressing too much. Just Jaemin smiling his usual smile when he reaches over to get water, but it always leaves Dejun chasing after his warmth. Just them being the teammates that they are.

That is, until they have to film another version of their dance practice. Dejun isn't sure if they will upload both of the versions they filmed or just choose between them, but it's not like he can ask.

It goes like any dance practice they have. A couple takes, some laughing, somebody slumping onto the floor in between takes. His shirt is starting to stick to his skin with all the sweating, so he goes off to the corner to cool down a little. Jaemin is leaning against one of the tables, his neck on full display as he tips his head back to gulp down all the water. Turning away, Dejun rifles through the box of mini fans they keep there.

There wasn't any talking about what they had done, but it still feels like they acknowledged it. It happened, and it's definitely changed some things. Most nights, Dejun imagined what it would be like if Jaemin's grip had left marks long after they parted.

Finished with his drink, Jaemin wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. One drop escapes, trailing down the line of his neck.

He hands Dejun a bottle. "Hyung?"

Dejun takes it, lets his fingers brush against his. "Thank you."

He's granted a grin before Jaemin goes back to the center of the practice room.

In the next moment, he feels a gentle elbow nudge against his side. "Happy you're becoming close."

It's Doyoung, the beginnings of his smile on his lips. Dejun doesn't shy away from him anymore, but he knows that Doyoung is extremely perceptive.

"He's very nice," he manages, twisting the full bottle in his hands. "An amazing performer, too."

Bumping shoulders with him, Doyoung says, "He's amazing, period. Overall, a really good person. It's great that you're becoming friends!"

Dejun nods, opening his water bottle quicker than he's ever done before. He gulps it down, and it feels almost rough going down his throat.

Friends. Yes, of course.

Later, Dejun stays back when everyone else has gone, fixing the contents of his bag. Xuxi had to rush out for another schedule, so he's not going home with Dejun tonight anyways.

Other than him, Jaemin stays too, for...whatever reason. Far as Dejun knows, none of his dormmates were at the building for tonight, so he's not sure why he's decided to linger.

When he's done with his bag, he turns to face him. Jaemin is leaning against one of the columns in the practice room. Before he can ask why he's here, Jaemin tilts his head at him.

"You look at me a lot," he muses, and it's not accusatory. Just stating a fact. "I've just noticed."

Dejun fumbles with a keychain that Guanheng had given him. "Uh...yeah, I guess I do. I just really admire how you move. It's not just with dancing."

At this, Jaemin pushes himself off the table, making slow steps closer. Dejun doesn't inch away, just watches as he closes in.

"How I move?"

"Yes." Dejun is standing up now, looking at him head-on. "You move with purpose, like you always know where you're supposed to be."

There's a slight pause, nearly unnoticeable, before he closes even more distance between them. He's half an arm's length away, and it would be so easy for him to get rid of that last bit of space.

Jaemin tilts his head again, and his eyes seem to have darkened somehow. "Do you...like that, hyung?"

Dejun opens his mouth to respond, but every word he knows gets tangled in his throat when there's a hand on his hip, tugging him close. He stumbles, but the hold on him steadies him. Jaemin's other hand is pressed to the mirror behind Dejun, effectively trapping him.

"Do you like how I move? With purpose, you say." His eyebrows raise, and this close, Dejun can see his lashes flutter. "Never had somebody tell me that before."

"Y-yes." he gets out, which is a feat considering how much he feels like his heartbeat will drown out his voice. "I like it."

"What else do you like?"

It's dangerous how close he is now. Dejun thinks that he might be able to smell the emotion he can only name as 'horny fear' on him. The grip on him tightens, and Dejun hopes he's just imagining how he felt himself twitch.

He musters up everything he has left: any coherency, any sense in his mind. "This," he breathes out. "I like this."

It makes Jaemin smile, the type that makes the corners of his mouth curl. The one that makes him look like he has every plan to make this as tormenting as possible.

"How about this?"

He dips down to mouth at Dejun, pressing his soft lips against his for a moment too short before breaking away and travelling elsewhere, every little point of contact making Dejun's lungs scream for air. It's maddening, what he does, and Dejun knows that Jaemin is well aware.

A crazed thought crosses Dejun's mind: he wants Jaemin to grip at him, hold him steady with those hands he knows are both careful and strong, wants him to press bruises that he'll feel until their next practice day. He can prod at his bruises, feel the pain of them and remember just how Jaemin managed to mark him like that.

"Hyung," Jaemin croons, sweet. "Do you like this?"

"Yes," he gasps out, pretty sure that Jaemin can feel just how strong his heartbeat is right now. 

There's another smile, he can feel it, before Jaemin says, "How about this?"

In the next moment, Jaemin angles his head just right, slots their mouths together. The way he licks at the seam of Dejun's mouth is filthy, and letting him lick into him has him absolutely dizzy. Jaemin tastes him like he's the sweetest thing in the world, and he wants every last bit of him.

He has to hold onto him, steady himself, because he knows that he's gonna crumple to the ground otherwise. Jaemin laughs into his mouth, and he can feel that smile against him as Jaemin deepens the kiss. His body presses closer to him, and god, Dejun knows what Jaemin can do, has seen him dance, seen him move. That's all he's been seeing.

When Jaemin breaks away, moving to drag his spit-slick mouth along Dejun's jaw, Dejun mentally curses in every language he knows. he's gonna drive him mad isn't he? he's gonna savor everything Dejun has and rob him of the ability to think, to breathe.

"Please..." he chokes out, just as Jaemin latches his mouth onto his pulse.

"What do you want, hyung?"

"Anything, anything." he sounds out of his mind already, and being enclosed by him is not helping. Dejun feels him everywhere but it doesn't feel like quite enough.

Jaemin rubs his own crotch against him, hot and hard, and Dejun knows his knees almost give out. The smile against his skin is saccharine, darker than any demon he knows.

He grinds against him, slow and absolutely filthy. A thought comes through in Dejun's hazy mind: does he fuck like this? He feels himself get embarrassingly harder, and a shameful whimper escapes his throat.

With a chuckle, the younger gets on his knees, looking up at him through those damned long lashes. A corner of his mouth quirking up as he pulls Dejun's pants and underwear down in one go. He lines kisses up his length, soft and barely there, and god, Dejun thinks he's gonna die here, that pretty mouth on his, and he thinks about how it's such a fucking way to go.

Sicheng looks up from where he's playing with the cats. "Dejun?"

He tries not to freeze in his tracks and look guiltier than he already is. "Hi, Sicheng."

"Where'd you -" His brows furrow as Dejun dumps his bag into one of their armchairs, plopping himself into it as well. Leon is already trying to reach for the toy still in his hand.

Dejun only shakes his head, scrunches his nose. God, he has no idea how he smells right now, how he looks, but he knows he really shouldn't stay here. Anyone could probably deduct what he's done just by looking at him.

He picks himself up and makes his way to the bathroom, hoping that Sicheng doesn't bring this up in the morning. Dejun throws his dirty shirt and his face towel into the wash, stripping off the shirt on his frame too. Jaemin had made marks, angry red lines down Dejun's arm and shoulder, dark ones on his waist and hips that will become light bruises. Carefully he traces over all of them, feeling his breath hitch at the memory. 

Jaemin looking up at him, eyes dark and his mouth stretched around him, smiling when Dejun ran his fingers through his hair. Jaemin, lashes fluttering when he took all of Dejun in, pulling away to show his swollen mouth and the spit coating his chin. Jaemin, who traced his red lips with Dejun's cock, all before licking his precum languidly.

Fucking Jaemin, who gripped his hips and wordlessly asked him to fuck his mouth. Who broke away to say in the most ruined voice he's heard, "Hyung likes this, yeah?"

Shaking his head, Dejun turns on the faucet, puts his hands under the cold water. He splashes it onto his face, hopes it somehow helps to bring down the flush he's had the entire trip back to the dorm. 

Truthfully, he's not sure how to feel about anything. He's tired from practice, he's exhausted from their desperate hands and their sloppy kisses, and he honestly thinks Jaemin was sent from heaven to torment him. Dejun braces his hands on the edge of the counter, takes in lungfuls of oxygen.

After a few moments, he decides to jump into the shower. He's sweaty and he's sure he smells like all sorts of things, and he'd much rather not face the knowing looks of the others in the morning.

As he stands under the warm spray, eyes closed, he imagines Jaemin, pretty mouth parted in a silent scream as he came all over Dejun's fingers. He can bring up that image of Jaemin bringing up his hand to his own mouth, licking and suckling and catching every last drop of his cum from Dejun's hand. His gaze never left Dejun.

God. Dejun wonders if he would ever be able to escape him at this point.

He figures out the answer to that pretty soon after.

They've just finished pre-recording, and it's still too early to leave. Dejun has already met a handful of idols from other groups, sending his kkt to them and promising to talk soon. He's frankly lost track of the number of selfies he's taken with all these people. They praised him for his killing part, saying that they kept replaying that when they watched the music video. He'd smile at them shyly, saying thank you again and again until Xuxi or Taeyong tells him that there's so many people to introduce him to.

So really, everything's pretty normal, so he's not sure how he ended up here, pressed against the wall of the comfort room of the studio, Jaemin's mouth hot and hungry on him. Jaemin keeps whispering "hyung" and "you're so good" against him, like Dejun's done something to make him want to devour him whole.

Impatient hands slip under his shirt, the flimsiest one he's been given so far. Jaemin's touch searches, like he needs to find something to anchor him. They settle on his waist after a while, pressing him flush against his own body.

Dejun gasps into his mouth, a sound easily swallowed by Jaemin's kisses. His heart strains painfully against his ribcage, and he feels like he might just drown in Jaemin's warmth, his clean linen scent, the way he makes Dejun's insides burn.

He's delirious as Jaemin nearly pushes him to the sink, letting him grab a hold of the granite counter before coming up behind him and pressing himself close. Jaemin drags that sin of a mouth against the vein on the side of Dejun's neck, gripping him as he grinds up against him. He's hard, Dejun registers, and it makes a pitiful sound escape him.

"You're so pretty, hyung," he says like it's ripped out of him. The edge of the counter digs into Dejun's thighs. "Wanna eat you out, god, I bet you're pretty when you cry..."

In the mirror, Dejun sees himself flush. His mouth is open in gasps, his eyelids heavy as Jaemin presses impossibly closer. Fuck, why does he move his hips like that -

"Can I, hyung?" he asks, honey-sweet. He's sucking on the underside of Dejun's jaw now, and Dejun feels whatever remains of his coherency melt away. He's going to have Jaemin's pink kisses on him until he gets home. "Can I eat you out?"

He must have nodded, whimpered out that he agreed, because Jaemin hooks his thumbs under his waistbands and tugs down, his own clothed cock rubbing against Dejun's bare skin. They're in the satin pants today, and he can feel how Jaemin throbs against him.

The mouth on his neck disappears as Jaemin pulls away, one of his hands pressing Dejun down against the counter. Dejun blinks blearily at the door, trying to remember if they locked it, when a long, wet stripe is licked up against his hole.

His knees nearly buckle, but Jaemin is holding him up securely. He repeats the motion, and Dejun shudders against the cold granite. 

Once Jaemin has built up a rhythm, making him sloppy and wet, Dejun feels himself rocking back. Jaemin is attentive, taking note of his every sound and reaction, circling his rim with his tongue when it makes him cry, and prodding at him when he whimpers against the granite. His rough fingers hold him open for him, and Dejun's hazy mind is hoping that he feels them inside him.

"Please," he manages, but he's not sure what exactly he's asking for. His knuckles have gone white from gripping the counter, and Jaemin hasn't even entered him yet.

Somehow, Jaemin understands. He nudges Dejun's legs further apart, flicking his tongue across his hole a few times before pushing in. Dejun nearly sobs at how good it feels, and he has to bite down on his tongue to make sure he doesn't make too much noise.

But fuck, Jaemin's too good at this. It feels filthy, his tongue hot inside him, all the spit everywhere, the way Dejun is leaking all over the damn counter. Jaemin eats him out like he's a man starved, and the last bits of sanity Dejun has left slips away from his fingers.

And he thinks, god, he's never going to escape Jaemin is he, not when Jaemin pulls away to prop one of Dejun's legs on the counter, and then dipping back in to continue opening him up with his tongue. Certainly not when Jaemin slowly eases a finger into him, fucking into him as his mouth makes him even more of a mess. Certainly fucking not when Jaemin gets two fingers into him, thrusting into him as he languidly licks against his walls. Especially not when he makes Dejun come untouched, spilling all over the studio's dark granite counter.

He's limp afterwards, chest rising and falling as he registers Jaemin cleaning him up. Every touch is gentle, reverent almost, and Dejun can barely process it. There's sweet, dark words murmured to him, and he nods to all of them. 

It's after another music show performance and a nice little dinner at Jaehyun's favorite restaurant. It was a little celebration for the end of their promotion period, and there was even quite a bit of drinking.

The 127 hyungs and Shotaro then piled into one van, while the three of them went in the other. Jaemin hadn't drunk, and neither had Dejun, so they're the ones that get a giggly Xuxi into his seat and strap him in.

As for them, well, they take a seat at the back. The airconditioning isn't quite as strong here, and Dejun doesn't need to sit on his hands to keep them warm.

The ride to the dorms is quiet, but not peaceful. They're both on their phones, scrolling aimlessly. He can hear Doyoung's voice on Jaemin's phone, most likely him doing a live in their van.

Idly, Jaemin traces his knuckles up Dejun's thigh. It's really not meant to be anything, gentle enough that if Dejun didn't know any better, he would've thought it was just accidental.

But it's not an accident when Jaemin repeats it, with a little more intention. His eyes are still on his phone, watching as Doyoung pans the camera to the others with him. He's saying something about being thankful, and he's roping Taeyong to say something too. That's all Dejun catches before Jaemin's hand comes to rest on his knee, warm even through Dejun's thick track pants.

He looks at him, a question on his lips. Jaemin trails his hand up, heavy against Dejun's thigh.

"Jaemin-ah?" He's heard the hyungs call him that, and Jaemin turns to him with the name.

"Hmmm?" Even in the dark, he can see him raise his brows. "Yes, hyung?"

Earlier, they had made out in the waiting room again, high on the adrenaline of their last stage and another win. It's like Dejun just can't keep his mouth off of him, and it's not like Jaemin can either. At some point, Dejun's phone was ringing, so he answered it as Jaemin lazily mouthed at his throat. Dejun just hopes that he hasn't alerted Taeyong to whatever they had been doing, because it's not like Dejun was bale to suppress every sound he made.

Now, it almost seems like Jaemin's pretending that nothing happened. Like they're really just here, at the back of a dark van, with his hand becoming dangerously close to Dejun's crotch.

"Hyung?" his voice sounds so innocent, even in that low cadence of his. Dejun finds himself gulping.

Wordlessly, he moves Jaemin's hand up, letting him feel how hard he's become. He can just make out the slow grin that spreads across the younger boy's features as Jaemin starts to palm him through his pants.

"Ah, needed more earlier?" He's so quiet, but Dejun still flicks his gaze over to where Xuxi is passed out. 

"We got interrupted," Dejun murmurs, his breath hitching when Jaemin's fingers dip under his waistband.

There's a little nod, illuminated by the lights of the storefronts they pass. "Should we continue, then?"

Dejun nods, pulling his pants down himself. Jaemin takes him in hand, stroking him slowly. After a few tugs, he decides that the slide is not good, so he dips down to take him into his mouth. Dejun has to bite down on his lip to keep himself from making a sound, his hips instantly chasing the warmth. There's a few quick bobs of the head before Jaemin pulls off, satisfied with how slick he's become.

The hand returns, and the strokes are so much better now. Taking in a shuddering breath, Dejun loses himself to the feeling. Jaemin's lining kisses up his neck and jaw, suckling every now and then. It's their last day of promotions for a while anyways. No stylist noonas to worry about.

"Does anyone else kiss you like this, hyung?" Jaemin murmurs against his skin. His thumb rubs over Dejun's leaking slit, and Dejun feels his toes curl. 

"No, no." He's a little worried that he's loud, but he can't help it.

Jaemin grazes his lips against his skin. "Good."

His strokes become faster, and Dejun has to squeeze his eyes shut. His hips fuck up into his fist on their own accord, chasing the sweet friction.

There's filth whispered into his ear and Jaemin twisting his wrist with every pump, and Dejun is close to squirming. He then feels soft, candy-sweet lips on his, and he allows himself to get lost in that for a while.

And Jaemin's hand is rough but every stroke feels so good, that it robs Dejun of any words he could possibly say. Jaemin breaks away to dip down and lick him clean of his precum, and the image alone brings Dejun closer to the edge. 

"We're close to the dorms, hyung," Jaemin says, sucking a mark under Dejun's jaw. "Can you come for me soon?"

He nods, closing his eyes again. Dejun focuses on the feeling, of Jaemin's warmth everywhere and his quickening strokes and the way he seems to want to bite down on him. He thinks he'd allow him, if he only had words right now.

It happens moments later, Jaemin kissing him to swallow his whines. He spills all over Jaemin's fingers, most likely getting drops on his shirt and pants. Jaemin strokes him through it, his cum making it all the more messy.

Jaemin cleans him up, dragging his tongue reverently up his cock, swirling it over the head before licking up more. He cleans his own fingers too, in that way that Dejun is reminded of how it felt to have his tongue inside him.

With cum smeared on his swollen lips and a smile on his face, he leans in to kiss Dejun one last time, letting him taste himself. It's gentler than anything they've been doing recently, and Dejun finds himself chasing after the feeling.

Not long after, they arrive at the Dreamie dorm. Jaemin collects his things, makes a final little lick against the seam of Dejun's mouth, and steps out of the van.

Dejun is left by himself at the backseat of the van, his thoughts running. That wasn't goodbye, he knew. Leaning back and catching his breath, Dejun feels like he's going to wonder even more.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ;)
> 
> if you liked this, pls do leave a kudos, comment, or bookmark! i really appreciate all of them <3
> 
> talk to me: [twt](https://twitter.com/bundoie) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/bundoie)


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